


All That We Destroy

by ErikaWilliams



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Getting Together, Ineffable Husbands Bingo (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands Week 2019, M/M, Post-Canon, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-10 06:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20523224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErikaWilliams/pseuds/ErikaWilliams
Summary: Aziraphale is used to denying himself things that he wants.  But when the time comes that he can finally indulge, things don't go exactly the way he planned.





	All That We Destroy

Aziraphale felt like the last six thousand years had been leading up to this moment. All those years, slowly growing closer to Crowley while trying to maintain a safe working distance. All the fear, all the longing, all the regret. All of it had been leading up to this. They were free. They could do whatever they wanted. They could finally be together without reprimand or fear of corporeal punishment. A bright white door was opening on a whole new chapter of their relationship.

He wasn’t exactly sure when his feelings towards Crowley had started to change. Maybe it had been some time during the late eighteenth century. During his most private moments, he could be persuaded that it had been long before that. He could however, remember the exact moment he realized those changes, and it was the exact moment he had realized that maybe it was possible that Crowley might have feelings for him. The signs had been there for a while; it had just taken him a while to catch up.

Except when he realized the direction in which his feelings for Crowley were changing, he couldn’t do anything about them. Heaven was always watching. Hell had spies everywhere. He would be lucky if he got off with a strongly worded reprimand. Crowley would be destroyed. Even before he had realized his feelings for Crowley were headed in a very unheavenly direction, he would never have been able to withstand the thought of losing Crowley. Especially because of their acquaintanceship.

He had been forced to break both their hearts. Over and over again. If Crowley was going to throw caution to the wind, he would be the one to slam on the brakes. Even to the end of the world. The pain of losing Crowley’s friendship was preferable to the possibility of losing Crowley forever.

Except the world had ended, and then Adam had put it back together. Only now, no one was watching them. All the feelings he had been damming up would break free. One thing at a time though. He had rejected Crowley too many times to be too forward now. He couldn’t change trajectory too quickly. He would continue to let Crowley set the pace, but first, they needed to get through lunch.

He studied Crowley carefully as he sipped at his champagne. Crowley had not given him any indication that his feelings for him had changed. Perhaps he should give Crowley a subtle hint that he was ready for more. That he reciprocated those feelings he had been picking up on for the last several centuries.

“You won’t believe the customer that came in to the shop the other day, dear,” he said, placing his hand very obviously on the table between them. Crowley looked over at him inquisitively but didn’t respond to the term of endearment, nor did he take the hint and grab his hand. Aziraphale cleared his throat. “He barged into the shop and loudly demanded that I sell him pornography.” He inched his hand closer to Crowley, trying to remain subtle. He had been longing for Crowley’s touch for so long. Was it too much to ask for Crowley to just reach over and grab his hand? He left it on the table, an open invitation.

“Why wouldn’t I believe that?” Crowley said before taking a sip from his champagne. “Humans buy pornography in shops in Soho.”

“I suppose you’re right, dear,” he tried again, leaning close to Crowley. He tried to gauge Crowley’s reaction to the endearment, but he couldn’t figure it out . Crowley didn’t flinch, he didn’t smile. It was like the word had no effect on him at all. Crowley should have responded in some manner. It was almost like he hadn’t even heard him. Crowley seemed to be more interested in nursing his champagne. “Are we having dessert?”

Aziraphale didn’t want this afternoon to end. More to the point, he didn’t want it to end with him and Crowley going their separate ways. They had done far too much of that in the past. There were so many things he wanted to do with Crowley, and he wanted to get started right way. If only he could get Crowley to be cooperative in that regard. The waiter came back around to top off their champagne.

“Order whatever you want,” Crowley told him with a fond smile. Well, that was a start, even if Crowley was still not picking up on his advances. He should try something more bold. “We’re celebrating, remember?”

“What exactly are we celebrating?” he asked, inching his hand further across the divide between them. After six thousand years it was probably about time they got on the same page. And if Crowley was going to let him down, he might be more inclined to do it gently since they were in a public place.

“Our newfound freedom.” Crowley polished off another glass of the champagne. He supposed he could drink to that. Freedom could mean a lot of things. For him, it was the freedom to be with Crowley in whatever manner he wanted. For as long as he wanted. No more sending Crowley away after a night cap. “Are we going to have dessert here, or do you want it back at the bookshop?’

That was a rather loaded question, one that Aziraphale procrastinated answering by taking another deep sip from his champagne. One the one hand, the Ritz did serve up the most scrumptious dessert that he had never been able to recreate. Crowley’s suggestion that they take dessert back in the bookshop had the hint of something previously forbidden. Something he had been denying his own interest in for quite some time. Something that still had an air of something dangerous about it. Something that he was perfectly able to indulge in now that Heaven was no longer watching him. He could tell Crowlely was watching him carefully, waiting for his response. More than just food was on offer, and he didn’t want to seem too eager. It appeared Crowley had been picking up on his subtle hints after all.

“We could take our dessert to go,” he suggested. He could have the best of both worlds. He could eat the dessert from the Ritz, and have whatever Crowley was offering. He was sure what Crowley put on the table would be absolutely delightful. 

He ordered their dessert, and Crowley took care of the check. With cash. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen Crowley pay with cash before. It was probably nothing more than a convenience. He shouldn’t really dwell on it too much. He had tipped very generously though. Aziraphale tried to put the incident out of his mind as he carried the dessert box to the Bentley. It was probably nothing. It was Crowley’s turn to pay, and he was allowed to pay in whatever method he saw fit. Crowley didn’t say anything when they got in the car either. No warnings about how he had better keep the lid carefully on the box, not to get a single crumb on the upholstery. Well, they had been through quite a lot over the past week. Perhaps in the wake of recent events, Crowley’s priorities had shifted.

“You will come in and share this with me, won’t you?” he asked as Crowley drove to the bookshop. He was not as sure about the direction this evening was going as he had when they arrived at the restaurant. Crowley was being so very quiet. He hadn’t said much through all of lunch. He was silent now in the car.

“Of course,” Crowley said not taking his eyes off the road. “It’ll be much more comfortable at the bookshop.”

“It would do us good to relax and,” he moved his hand over to Crowley’s thigh, “unwind.”

“That’s the idea,” Crowley said taking one hand off the wheel to take Aziraphale’s and remove it from his leg. He entwined their fingers together, keeping their hands firmly in the space between them. Perhaps he was being a bit too forward. They hadn’t even had much of a chance to talk about introducing a physical aspect into their relationship. 

Aziraphale glanced at the scenery to make sure they were going somewhere familiar. He could actually see the scenery. He glanced back over at the speedometer. Crowley was resolutely going the speed limit. Without any encouragement or any sort of reprimand. He was simply driving through London at the normal speed required by law. Even though he longed to touch Crowley all over, his hand was warm and comforting. Crowley seemed to have no intention of letting go. Perhaps Crowley had decided to go the speed limit to stretch this moment out for as long as possible. He gave Crowley’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“Did you have something in mind?” he asked trying to get a better idea of what Crowley wanted. He thought he had known, but he hadn’t been able to read Crowley ever since they had returned from the head offices. Maybe he was just still recovering from everything that had gone on.

“Alcohol, that dessert, the backroom of your shop. The usual.”

“I see.” The usual. Just like things had been before they had freed themselves from the shackles of their former lives. Crowley ran his thumb across the back of his hand, so maybe he did want something more than the usual but he just didn’t know how to ask for it. Maybe after some alcohol he could coax Crowley into something more than the usual. Something that took up Crowley’s earlier offer of dessert in the bookshop. Maybe had indulged in too much champagne already since he was feeling quite giddy about the situation. Perhaps he would wait to indulge in the dessert from the Ritz.

Crowley parked quite close to the shop, closer than he was used to. He supposed it no longer mattered who knew that Crowley was at the shop. He led the way inside, Crowley trailing after him with the dessert box in tow. He missed the comfort of his hand in his, but he had every intention of remedying that soon enough. He double checked to make sure the door was locked before he followed Crowley into the back room. Crowley took up his usual spot on the sofa, the box of dessert in the middle, while Aziraphale went to get them some more wine.

“Adam did a good job of fixing everything,” Crowley said as Aziraphale handed him his glass of wine.

“Yes, I suppose he did,” he said, giving a thorough look around the backroom. Everything had been put back together so well he almost couldn’t believe that it had been temporarily gone. He hesitated for a moment before sitting down on the couch next to Crowley, the dessert box between them. “You never did tell me what happened in Heaven,” he prompted before taking a sip from his wine.

“Oh, I wasn’t nearly half as clever as you,” Crowley told him, and he tried not to be too flattered. “It was actually kind of boring.”

“Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t boring,” he said with a shy glance in Crowley’s direction. He couldn’t possibly see how Crowley could have done anything remotely boring. Even if he had largely refused to talk about it. “They tried to kill me, how could that possible be boring?”

Crowley inhaled sharply, then let it all go. “I never would have let them kill you.”

“I know, dear.” Blast that box between them. He was tired of the distance, tired of barriers being placed between them. All that was supposed to be gone now, no more distinction between the two of them. Without Heaven and Hell breathing down their necks, they simply were. And what he wanted to do was to be with Crowley, to experience that which he had denied himself for so long. And it seemed like they were still placing obstacles in their own way. Maybe he could just miracle it to a table somewhere and schooch over just a little closer.

“You do have a bedroom here, don’t you?” Crowley asked, staring at a spot directly in front of him. There was nothing interesting over there.

“Upstairs,” he said, swallowing hard as the ramifications of what Crowley had just asked him. “Third door on the left.”

“And it has a bed right?”

“Yes,” he breathed out, wondering why he had even bothered with bringing the dessert back to the bookshop. Crowley had other ideas all along. Was he ready for this? It had been six thousand years, of course he had to be ready.

“Mind if I...” Crowley trailed off, looking longingly towards the door that led to the flat upstairs.

“Not at all.” This was it, this was finally happening. Crowley practically rolled off the sofa and sauntered over to the stairs.

Crowley stopped just outside the door and looked back over his shoulder at him. “Don’t rush on my account,” he said before disappearing up the stairs, the door swinging slowly shut behind him.

Aziraphale remained on the couch for a little longer, nursing his glass of wine. Crowley hadn’t even touched his wine or the dessert. He must have been eager to get somewhere, but it wasn’t out the door. He had been expecting a little more romance, a little more of Crowley making a grand gesture in an attempt to get him upstairs and into bed. Did Crowley really believe it was such a sure thing, that Aziraphale would just blindly follow him up there and let him have his way with him?

He resolved to stay downstairs for a little while longer. Make Crowley wonder if he was going to join him. Crowley could have at least made an effort at seducing him. He eyed up the dessert box next to him. He really should wait to enjoy it with Crowley. Besides, there was a strange fluttering feeling in his stomach and he didn’t think eating would make any of those sensations disappear. He decided to down Crowley’s wine as well. Crowley wasn’t going to come back down and persuade him to go upstairs. He was dying to know what Crowley was laying on the table. Would he have miracled some rose petals over the bed? The only way for him to know for sure was to go upstairs and find Crowley.

He opened the door and stared up the dark stairs, straining to hear something. Whatever Crowley had planned he was being very quiet. Aziraphale slowly started up the steps. An image of Crowley sprawled naked on his bed planted itself firmly in his mind. Despite his best efforts to imagine anything else, he couldn’t quite get rid of it. Crowley wouldn’t be that forward, would he? Aziraphale made it to the hallway. His bedroom door was still slightly ajar. Then again, Crowley always did like to do things fast. They had hardly made it inside the door before Crowley had sauntered off to the bedroom.

He took a deep breath before he slowly opened the door. “Crowley?” he called tentatively before he stepped inside. Crowley was, in fact, sprawled out on the bed. Fully clothed and sound asleep. “Crowley?” The only response he got was a quiet snore. He supposed it had been quite a long week. Crowley had used a good deal of energy, and hadn’t been able to rest before the trials had begun. 

He made his way to the other side of the bed and sat down with his back against the headboard. Crowley didn’t stir beside him, and the only thing that kept him from being worried was that he could see that he was breathing. Maybe it was too much alcohol talking, but something about this didn’t feel quite right. Something about the quiet, contained way Crowley had been behaving since they had been reunited.

“Rest well, dear,” he told him, trying hard not to think about the possibility that maybe he had lost Crowley after all.


End file.
